Tall Kids Part Deux (Bikin' Boogaloo)

Current mood: cheerful

Dudes, I got a bike.

And not just any bike, but a used, 45-dollah, obviously-you-were-meant-to-have-it-b/c-it's actually-pink-and-black-and-kind-of-made-for-a-short-girl-I-mean-what-do-you-need-a-frickin-ray-of-light? bike.

And it is sooooo awesome, riding to work everyday and tooling around town. Now all I have to do is getting it outfitted with a basket and one of those clever bells, and I'm good to go. Sooooo happy

Which brings me to a bit of karmic justice.

You know the guy I talked about like a dog in my last post? The one who forced pictures of his grandson on me? The one whose name I was too cool to learn? Well, his name is Chuck Shoemaker. Know how I know?

Well, here's the pre-bike convo I had with my boss on Wednesday.

Me: Hey, Kelley. I'm planning on buying a bike today. And I was wondering if we have a bike rack on the premises.

Kelley: You're getting a bike?

Me: Yeah, I figured since I live so close, I might as well ride to work.

Kelley: Wow, you're so lucky.

Me: Yeah . . . so about the rack.

Kelley: Oh, we don't have one, but you can ask Chuck Shoemaker if he'll let you store it in the warehouse.

Me: Um, who's Chuck again?

Kelley: You know, the guy that came around with pictures of his grandson?

Me: Oh.

So, of course, I ask Chuck, and, of course, he says yes and even sneaks away from his conference call to show me the back door after hours exit, so I can get the bike even if he's locked the front entrance. And now I get to feel terrible about my last blog, b/c though my most romantic wish is to be an urban, bitter, slightly alcoholic, completely crazy, cranky bitch of a writer, the fact is I'm a pretty nice (you can take the girl outta the midwest...), weirdly optimisitic, only slightly insane writer, who can't write if she has any alcohol in her system and who feels bad about picking on an old guy, who then turned around and did her a favor.

Ah, well. What can you do?

I'm having an awesome weekend, though.

I went to see *Stuff Happens* by David Hare at the Mark Taper on Saturday. And I must recommend it to anyone who would appreciate a comprehensive, well-acted, wonderfully written play on how and why the war in Iraq happened. In other words, it's good political theater -- which is hard to find -- especially in L.A. Also, Julian Sands, the guy from Warlock, Arachnophobia, and Room With a View is playing Tony Blair, so that's worth the price of a ticket right there. But for those who don't have a lot of money, even for good theater, you can show up two-hours before showtime and get the $12 rush tickets. Here's the website for more info: Stuff Happens

Today, I feel like one of those pastoral indie films, in which the main character rides his and her bike around town.






Maybe I'll move to the Italian countryside.

Currently reading:
I, Fatty : A Novel
By Jerry Stahl
Release date: By 23 July, 2004